But the same disregard in a man did not offend her; it had the reverse effect.

It seemed to her, to the woman in her, the fitting roughness of the colossal statue.

"That's a _man_!" she now said to herself proudly, as she gazed at him.
His eyes opened and fixed upon her in a look so agonized, that she leaned, faint, against the door jamb.

"What is it, father ?" she gasped.
He did not answer--did not move--sat rigidly on, with that expression unchanging, as if it had been fixed there by the sculptor who had made the statue.

She tried to go to him, but at the very thought she was overwhelmed by such fear as she had not had since she, a child, lay in her little bed in the dark, too terrified by the phantoms that beset her to cry out or to move.